Mr Robinson's Memorial Ride

Dave Stevenson

18th October 1998

Last year our preparations for the Dukeries Autumn
Event took place in the most glorious Indian summer, which broke on the
night before the ride to leave Raymond Robinson's last ride with us
shrouded in thick fog. 1998 saw a complete reversal with
Saturday's hanging up of signs hampered by heavy rain and freezing,
gale-force winds. The storm blew itself out in the night,
however, and as I headed off to repair the ravaged route markers, a
clear sky laced with high, thin cloud arched over a lightly frosted
earth. As the sun rose the ground warmed up and left us with a
truly lovely autumn motor cycling day-a first for the Dukeries
Section.

Twenty-two club eligible machines arrived at the starting point, the
second pleasant surprise of the day. Highest points for style of
entry went to Dave Hutton who arrived on his Fordson tractor, which he
had driven over from Huddersfield. NACC marques represented were:
Honda, Raleigh, Mobylette, Bown, Puch, Batavus, Mini-Motor, Aquilotto,
BSA, NSU, Francis Barnett, New Huson and HEC. There were two
cyclemotors, three autocycles, and seventeen mopeds. Non-eligible
machines were an MZ 250, a Dot and a BSA Gold Flash outfit.
This provided a little unexpected entertainment to the participants
and, I have to admit, its rider when, accelerating up the rather steep
hill out of the Hemmingfield Club, it cocked its sidecar wheel
provocatively some two or three feet above the ground like a desperate
dog searching for a lamp post.

The long convoy of bikes departed at 11 o'clock on the 12-mile
outward leg to Cusworth Hall. The first few miles were very
impressive with a long string of whirring and popping machines leaving
a trail of blue sweet-scented smoke across the yellow and green autumn
landscape. One of the more "unusual" of the entrants, Russell
Hart's Hogg, a modified Honda Vision, was one of two machines tackling
the hills with a pillion. Hogg is distinguished by a number of
features, not the least impressive of which is a pig's head with
flashing eyes which looks like it was cloned by Frank Brzeski in his
school lab. Frank was there in person but, when somebody asked me
"Is the end-to-end man here?", I momentarily thought that they were
referring to Phil. Don't ask me why (because the incident is
still sub judice). Actually Mr Nuttall was extremely
well-behaved. It makes such a difference when Linda doesn't give
him that second Weetabix. By the time the Hall was reached the
field had stretched with the usual minor breakdowns and because the
Maths Adviser was under dire threats of eternal torment if she seized
the rebuilt Bown 50. This was on its first run since its
breakdown at Alston on the Coast to Coast in June. With the usual
planning and foresight for which the Dukeries team is renowned, it had
been completed with a new piston and rebore the previous lunchtime.

Our entry to Cusworth Hall through a narrow arched gatehouse and
down a short drive to the rear courtyard was impressive. The
bikes were lined up under the Georgian splendour of a double staircase
while riders drank coffee and hot chocolate in the stable-cafe.
Delays here ensured a staggered re-start on the northerly 16-mile
return route. This was more rural than the run out had been, with
the narrow streets of the lovely stone-built Hooton Pagnall providing
some genuine English picturesque. The views from the end of the
slow climb towards the most easterly point at Houghton Common, where a
permanent road-sign warns of the dangers of "ice for 2 miles", offered
a misty blue vision of the Pennine foothills, among which, rather less
picturesquely, lurk Barnsley, Rotherham and the unfortunately-named
Penistone.

A rather more serious breakdown occurred in Great Houghton when
Louise had to abandon Mike Gott to await a rescue. The organisers
were desperately hoping that he would not admit to any of the curious
locals that he had been (a) born in Lincolnshire or (b) now lived in
Lancashire. Mike rose to the occasion, however, and gracefully
admitting to a connection with Cleethorpes (which, and this illustrates
how desperately depressed this part of South Yorkshire has become,
counts as a holiday resort round here) was able to borrow a spanner off
a Yorkshireman(!) and reactivate his machine. The impressive
guile, cunning and acumen displayed by Mike marked a welcome return to
form after a serious bike accident that has kept him and Louise away
from our events for 18 months. It was good to see them
back. A number of members lost the way back despite the signs
(sigh) but eventually the entire party entered the Club for a buffet
lunch. This was slightly sparser than planned due to the
unexpectedly large turnout but seemed to prove satisfactory.

And then it was the prize-giving. Had there been an award for
furthest travelled it would undoubtedly have gone to Dave White and his
wife who had come up from the Midlands. But there wasn't.
Had there been a prize for leaving your butcher's bike at home and
coming on your MZ then Nigel Pearson would have been a dead cert.
Sadly, this too did not come to pass. The biggest surprise of the
prize-giving, however, was that neither Phil "Stick your cross down
there guv'nor and I'll let you have a look in me holdall" Nuttall nor
Barbara "Let me add that up for you, Big Boy" Smith, erstwhile
organisers of these fiascos, won anything at all. Instead, in
what appeared for once to be a completely fair result, Frank Brzeski
was voted Best Cyclemotor for his BSA Winged Wheel, Mick Gott received
Best Moped for his beautifully restored Raleigh RM4 and Gordon Hindley
received Best Autocycle for his pre-war 80cc Levis-engined HEC.
Each took home an inscribed bottle of Chateau Pipi.

Our thanks to Gerry Steer for initiating the event, Brian Crane for
acting as back-up, Daves Jackson and Hutton with Gerry (again) for
putting on a display of stationary engines (and the tractor), the usual
Dukeries tribe for the organisational bits, those who brought
autojumbling thingummies, and all those who came along, but most of all
thanks to the weatherman. Have a good six months in that freezing
cold shed and we look forward to seeing the whole cast of thousands
again in April.